


That One Part from Red, White & Royal Blue

by merlins_tits



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex is stupid, Boys In Love, M/M, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, henry is jealous, minor pez/june, past nora/alex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:40:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29074212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlins_tits/pseuds/merlins_tits
Summary: A collection of different POVs from certain scenes as well as added in scenes that I have taken upon myself to headcanon.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 85





	That One Part from Red, White & Royal Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Bear with me, I’m still trying to figure out how to format everything. This is the New Year’s scene! I had to know what was going on in Henry's head during this entire exchange. I kept most of the same words, but I added a little bit of what I thought might be going on in Henry's head. All rights go to Casey McQuiston. These characters belong to them and not to me. I just wanted to put my own little spin on it.

A strong, deep bass rumbled from the speakers as Henry stumbled through the crowd searching for Alex. It had gotten to the point where he was on the verge of giving up when he spotted him. Alex was with two girls: Nora at his back with her arms wrapped around a small girl who looked vaguely familiar. Alex, though, had his head thrown back, laughing like someone had just told him the world’s best joke, his whole body alive with movement. It was intoxicating enough that Henry took a deep breath before sidling up next to him. He looked around to see people with their hands in the air, hands on someone’s waist, around someone’s neck, wrapped around a drink. Looking down at his own hands, he tried to copy those around him without looking completely prattish. Spoiler. It didn’t work.  


"You don’t dance?” Alex says, watching him.  


“No, I do,” Henry says. “It’s just, the family-mandated ballroom dancing lessons didn’t exactly cover this?” The last few words of his sentence come off as more of a question than a statement.  


“C’mon, it’s, like, in the hips. You have to loosen up.” Alex replies. He then does the unthinkable: he puts his hands on Henry’s hips and it’s all Henry can do to not tense up. By the look on Alex’s face, he thinks he’s failed. “That’s the opposite of what I said.”  


“Alex, I don’t--”  


“Here,” Alex says, moving his own hips, “watch me.”  


Henry feels the warmth creeping up the back of his neck, takes a gulp of his champagne, and says in what he hopes to be a level tone, “I am.”  


The song crossfades into another _buh-duh dum-dum-dum, dum-duh-dum duh-duh-dum--_  


_“Shut up,”_ Alex yells, looking as though Christmas had come early. “Shut your dumb face, this is my _shit!_ ” He throws his hands up in the air as Henry stares at him blankly, and around them, people start cheering too, hundreds of shoulders shimmying to what Henry later learns to be “Get Low” by Lil Jon.  


“Did you seriously never go to an awkward middle school dance and watch a bunch of teenagers dry hump to this song?”  


Alex looks up at Henry as he stares back with wide eyes, clutching his champagne glass like a lifeline. “You absolutely must know I did not.”  


Alex turns to where Nora was standing a few feet away and snatches her away from the girl she was flirting with. Absently, Henry realizes that he recognizes this girl from the recent Spider-Man movie. “Nora!” Alex shouts, bringing Henry’s focus back to him. But honestly, when is he not focused on Alex?  


“ _Nora!_ Henry has never watched a bunch of teenagers dry hump to this song!” Nora stumbles and her face becomes so shocked that Henry fears that he’s done something wrong.  


_“What?”_ she exclaims.  


“Please tell me nobody is going to _dry hump_ me,” Henry says, bewilderment written all over his face.  


“Oh my God, Henry,” Alex yells, seizing Henry by one lapel as the music pounds on, “you have to dance. You have to dance. You need to understand this formative American coming-of-age experience.”  


Henry feels his willpower dwindling when he realizes just how close Alex has pulled them together. He doesn’t even think that Alex meant to, but suddenly, Henry is all too aware of the feeling of Alex’s body pressed against his. He thinks he might do something extremely stupid when Nora grabs Alex, pulling him away from Henry and spinning him around, her hands on his waist, and starts grinding with abandon. Alex woops and Nora cackles and the crowd jumps around and Henry just gawks at them. He lets out an indignant snort when he hears the lyrics for the first time.  


“Did that man just say _‘sweat drop down my balls’_?”  


Alex is breathtaking, sweat on his brow, laughing hysterically, bent over grinding his ass against Nora’s front. She starts thrusting against Alex, smacking his ass on time with the beat of the song and Henry is sure he’s only seen this happening in movies. Henry rips his eyes away from the scene in front of him only to see Pez a few feet away bending over to the front and touching his toes. Alex sees it too and laughs even harder at Henry’s face. He accepts a shot from a passing tray, throwing it back and getting back to his dancing. He pouts his lips and shakes his ass, and even though Henry cannot fathom why his body starts reacting without him telling it to, his head starts to bop.  


"Fuck it up, vato!" Alex yells, and Henry laughs despite himself and hips start to move in a little baby shake.  


“I thought you weren’t going to babysit him all night,” June whispers to Alex as she twirls by, though it comes off as more of a shout.  


“I thought _you_ were too busy for guys,” Alex says, nodding behind her. Henry looks over his shoulder and sees Pez watching June with a little grin on his face. He turns back around in time to see June throw Alex a wink before she’s off again.  


From there, Henry can’t find it in himself to care about how ridiculous he might look. He’s had too much to drink and there’s music he vaguely recognizes as early 2000s blasting from the speakers. He’s drinking champagne directly from the bottle and his willingness to dance likely has to do with how close Alex is and the fact that he can’t quite keep his hands to himself. Henry thinks he might explode.  


He watches Alex continue to grind against Nora and in the back of his head he hears a whisper that sounds a little bit like Pez saying “you wish that was you, huh?”  


The staring contest he seems to have started with Alex lasts well up until midnight, laughter bubbling out at random, wide smiles that they both can’t quite keep off of their faces. The countdown to the new year starts as they huddle up in their own little group, arms wrapped around each other, swaying slightly due to how much they’ve all had to drink. Henry thinks everything is going well until the countdown hits one, everyone screams “Happy New Year” and he sees Nora sling her arm around Alex’s neck and kiss him sloppily on the mouth. As they pull out of the kiss, Nora bites Alex’s lip and messes up his hair as he laughs. He opens his eyes and looks straight at Henry. Henry fights to keep his emotions off his face, he’s trained in it. It’s hard considering the jealousy rising up and he’s certain he must be green with it. Alex’s smile grows wider when he registers Henry’s expression, so Henry lifts the bottle of champagne up to his mouth, takes a hearty gulp, turns and walks through the crowd away from two-thirds of the White House Trio.  


Henry finds himself in the Garden without even registering how he got there and how long he’s been there. He slowly walks up to a tree and looks up into the sky. He’s so numb from the alcohol that he doesn’t care how cold it is. The only way he knows that he maybe should be wearing a jacket is when he breathes out and sees little puffs of steam in front of his face.  


He’s been out there for God knows how long when he hears a curse as someone stumbles over a bench behind him.  


“What’re you doing back here?” Alex says, trudging up to stand next to him under the tree.  


Henry squints down at him trying to focus on Alex’s face. It doesn’t work. It’s still blurry. Still beautiful. Whatever. “Looking for Orion,” he settles on saying.  


Alex huffs a laugh, looking up into the sky. Henry realizes his excuse must sound silly when he looks up as well and sees Alex fighting back a smile. The sky is not clear. It’s full of fluffy white clouds. “You must be really bored with the commoners to come stand out here and stare at the clouds.”  


“‘m not bored,” Henry mumbles. “What are you doing out here? Doesn’t America’s golden boy have some swooning crowds to beguile?” He means for it to come out harsher than it sounds. He hopes Alex doesn’t recognize the fondness in his voice.  


“Says Prince fucking Charming,” Alex answers, smirking.  


Henry frowns up at the clouds. He’s not sure if he likes that Alex compared him to a beautiful prince or if he’s disappointed that he is anything but. “Hardly.”  


His knuckle brushes the back of Alex’s hand at their sides, a little zip of warmth in the cold night. Henry feels it in his whole body. From the corner of his eye he can see Alex looking at him. The garden is quiet. It makes Henry uncomfortable.  


“You really didn’t answer my question, though,” Alex notes.  


Henry groans, rubbing a hand across his face. “You can’t leave well enough alone, can you?” He leans his head back. It thumps gently against the trunk of the tree. “Sometimes it gets a bit...much.”  


Alex keeps looking at him. He shifts, leaning back against the tree too. He nudges their shoulders together and Henry feels the corner of his mouth twitch at the contact. He tries to keep his smile down. He’s probably failing.  


“D’you ever wonder,” he says slowly, “what it’s like to be some anonymous person out in the world?”  


Alex frowns. “What do you mean?”  


“Just, you know,” Henry says, trying to find the right words. “If your mom weren’t the president and you were just a normal bloke living a normal life, what things might be like? What you’d be doing instead?”  


“Ah,” Alex says. He stretches out one arm out in front of him, makes a dismissive gesture with a flick of his wrist. “Well, I mean, obviously I’d be a model. I’ve been on the cover of _Teen Vogue_ twice. These genetics transcend all circumstance.” Henry rolls his eyes, fighting to keep a fond smile off of his face. “What about you?”  


Henry shakes his head ruefully. “I’d be a writer.”  


Alex gives a little laugh. “Can’t you do that?”  


“Not exactly seen as a worthwhile pursuit from a man in line for the throne, scribbling verses about quarter-life angst,” Henry says dryly. “Besides, the traditional family career track is military, so that’s about it, isn’t it?”  


He bites his lip, and his brain supplies the words _I’d date more, probably, as well_. It takes him a moment to realize he’s voiced his thoughts when Alex starts laughing.  


“Right, because it’s so hard to get a date when you’re a prince.”  


Henry looks down at Alex. “You’d be surprised.”  


“How? You’re not exactly lacking for options.”  


Henry looks at him. He thinks there’s a twinge of jealousy in Alex’s voice and he hopes it’s not wishful thinking. It’s probably what gives him the courage to say, “The options I’d like…” dragging the words out, trying to hint at what he’s trying to say. “They don’t quite seem to be _options_ at all.”  


Alex blinks. “What?” And Henry’s infatuated with him even more.  


“I’m saying that I have...people...who interest me,” Henry says, turning his body toward Alex now, speaking with a fumbling pointedness. Alex still looks entirely too confused and it’s endearing. “But I shouldn’t pursue them. At least not in my position.”  


“I still don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Alex says.  


Henry wants to punch him.  


“You don’t?”  


“No.”  


“You really don’t?”  


“I really, really don’t.”  


Henry grimaces in frustration, looking up to the sky wishing there was something up there to please knock some sense into Alex. He straightens. “Christ, you’re about as thick as it gets,” he says, and he grabs Alex’s face in both hands and kisses him.  


Alex freezes, and for a split second, Henry wonders if he’s read Alex all wrong. Then he feels Alex lean into him and Henry almost sighs in relief. His mouth slides against Alex’s, opens, and Henry feels his tongue brush against his. It’s wonderful and warm and everything Henry had hoped for. Probably even better. _Oh._ Definitely better. One of Henry’s hands finds its way into Alex’s hair and grabs it at the roots at the back of his head. Alex makes a small noise in the back of his throat and that’s when Henry realizes just what he’s done.  


He pulls away roughly, enough that Alex staggers back, eyes glazed over, the beginnings of bewilderment etching across his face. Henry mumbles a curse and a series of apologies, holding up his hands as he backs away. Eyes wide and heart in his throat, he turns on his heel and rushes out of the garden, leaving Alex standing in the snow. When he reaches the portico, he looks back and sees Alex start to come back to himself, touching his lips and beginning to make his way toward the White House. Henry slips inside, pushes through the crowd where he finds Pez.

Even in his drunkenness, Pez takes one look at Henry and he must know. It’s probably written all over his face.  


“Please,” Henry hears himself say. There’s a roaring sound in his ears. “I can’t--Pez, I need to leave. I can’t be here.”  


Pez grabs his hand and leads him to where the PPOs are waiting by the wall. He leans over to Shaan and the next thing he knows is he’s being shuttled to the SUVs parked around the side of the White House.  


Henry can’t breathe and he doesn’t remember walking to the SUV.  


Henry can’t breathe and he sees a flash of betrayal and confusion on Alex’s face in the back of his mind.  


Henry can’t breathe and suddenly he’s in the private jet.  


Pez doesn’t even ask him what happened. He looks at Henry with sympathy and keeps a worried eye on him the entire flight. He doesn’t fall asleep, he won’t when Henry can’t breathe.  


Pez takes a deep breath and grabs Henry’s hand. “It’s gonna be okay, Henry. Just wait. I promise everything will be okay.”

_He was right, like always,_ Henry thinks as he runs his fingers down Alex’s naked back in the brownstone they share.

Henry takes a deep breath.


End file.
